The Second Rise Vol 1
by Amber Lee Greene
Summary: Postwarts series that'll observe Voldemort's followers and their interactions during the war. Expect cameos from familiar characters Draco, Pansy, Theodore, Goyle, Crabbe, Millicent, Flint, Pucey, Bletchley, etc as well as those adult Death Eaters we love
1. Chapter 1: The Messenger

**The Series:** Volume 1 follows the tales of the youth with in Voldemort's army. Their lives, tribulations, and social circles amidst war will be looked to for action. We'll see familiar characters interact from numerous points of view all working in their own areas with in Voldemort's growing number of followers. Older and darker character will taint the youth and the youth will see the consequences of their actions.

**The Chapter:** In this chapter Theodore Nott will begin us on our journey. He is sent to deliver and retrieve a message for one of his superiors at the Bulstrode Manor on October 13, 1998. There he finds an unexpected acquaintance to be his informant. Millicent Bulstrode's presence in England is unearthed and the talk of unblessed engagements keeps things light.

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**Chapter 1: The Messenger**

If he had to give compliment to the estate in front of him Theodore Nott would have used the phrase _'quaint yet elegant.'_ For one thing the lawn was greener than most and the windows were clean inside and out. From the looks of it the Bulstrode's took pride in outer appearances and that was a plus. He supposed he could grant them the opportunity of impressing him further once he was inside. It was obvious that though the family had the money to live a little higher than middle class squalor they were far from any dominatingly large financial stability. The property would have been impressive to someone who wasn't used to these countryside estates but it was far from any elegant mansions with entire wings designated for family members.

Everyone knew that the Bulstrode's, though present in upper society had lingered from dominatingly powerful circles over the years. Mr. Bulstrode had managed to gather himself a good share of respect from not only those below him but even a few above his social status with out stepping on to many toes. He'd always been an overly protective man of his family pride and did everything in his power to keep the Bulstrode name _well respected_ in all the right circles. It really wasn't much of a surprise that Theodore would be sent to visit this particular man that afternoon.

Since his completion of his studies at Hogwarts in June Theodore had been playing a particularly innocent game of messenger boy for certain family acquaintances. Since his father's death this past spring it had come to him to uphold the financial and political status of his own name. In order to please certain people and to stay at a comfortable living arrangement he had to affiliate himself with some wizards who might have taken a little too much interest in the war still raging all across the United Kingdom. But the way the young man saw it was the more he scratched these men's backs the more likely he'd be left alone and untroubled.

After adjusting his collar and flattening his hair the eighteen-year-old took hold of the doorknocker and pounded twice. He expected to wait for some house elf to receive him but to his surprise the door opened on it's very own. From where he stood the entrance hall was definitely larger than the boy had expected and he found the Victorian style staircase surprisingly tasteful. However instead of marching inside with out much question he attempted to peek in and wait for someone to receive him.

If he knew anything about manners (and he did) a wizard never invited himself into other wizard's home - especially in the midst of war.

Just as he went to open his mouth to inquire if anyone was there a ghost glided through one of the doors to the right of the stairs and stopped in the middle of the entrance hall. He had a superb posture about him and a butler's uniform from what Theodore guessed to be the mid 1800's. His nose was in the air and silvery wisps resembled hair at the top of his head was combed over his once balding scalp.

"Please come in sir," the ghostly butler greeted with a slight bow of his head, "Am I to assume you're here on business?"

"Yes, you may," Theodore answered finding himself admiring the high ceiling of the place. It was fair to say the first room inside was definitely impressive. Though half the size of his own entrance hall at home it was a tasteful space indeed and he'd decided perhaps he'd have no problem working there. "I'm Theodore Nott. I've business with your master. Is he in?"

"No sir. He's out of town on business of his own." The butler informed as he glided to the opposite side of the room, "However, if you'll follow me I do believe the lady of the house may be of help to you. She's been dealing with Mr. Bulstrode's business transactions in his absence all month."

Though Theodore followed the apparition down a wide corridor neatly lit with ceiling to floor windows he did make note of how differently he'd expected this afternoon to go. Granted he'd only been informed to be at the Bulstrode's estate in Long Bredy at ten o'clock and nothing else. He'd simply assumed he was meeting Mr. Bulstrode, it wasn't everyday a man's wife did his business for him. Perhaps, it was how this particular war was being fought...with parlor women. He offered a smirk at the thought as they came to a pair of double doors at the end of the hall and the butler disappeared through them.

The young man paused and wondered if he were to wait for the ghost to return or if he should make his own entrance. It was definitely a bizarre thing having a ghost for a house servant. Though it wasn't entirely unheard of it was a bit unconventional in the twentieth century - to be entirely honest it was tacky too. He waited a few seconds and the damned thing didn't bother to return so naturally Theodore was losing patience. He glanced to his pocket watch and gave the empty frames on the walls a glance before he knocked on the doors himself.

There was no answer.

"Sir," interrupted a voice from behind and the young man quickly turned to face the same ghost that had brought him there. "I'd advise going in any time now. She's testing you on purpose."

With a furrowed brow and slightly irritated expression Theodore Nott glared at the ghost, "Is that so?" There was something about being poorly treated that didn't bode very well with the young man and he reconsidered going in at all. With clenched jaw and a fair few words to say to this woman gathering in his head he entered what he automatically registered to be a ballroom. The noises that escaped through the opened door were definitely unanticipated as was the display set in the middle of the room.

There was a fool in complete fencing equipment wielding a flimsy sliver of metal toward an enchanted opponent. If it hadn't been for the missing hands and feet on one of the padding outfits Theodore would have guessed he was interrupting a duel between partners. But the more he watched and listened to the grunts of aggression with each maneuver he deducted it was a practice session of some sort. He remained quiet through the entire five minute exchange from the wall near the door, chuckling absently with private thoughts on the woman's curves and agility as the couple danced about the ball room floor.

Finally the set of padding that had hands and feet let out a triumphant "HA!" as the tip of her fencing blade bent into her opponent and the lifeless uniform fell to the floor. Theodore naturally offered his round of applause from the other side of the room. "That was very fine foot work if I may say so myself."

"You may," the masked woman answered as she tossed her blade onto her once enchanted opponent and moved to close the large gap between the other living person in the room.

"Congratulations on your victory," Theodore offered with a slightly condescending tone as he made the halfhearted approach himself.

"Why..." the woman paused as she pulled off her fencing mask to be properly heard, "...thank you. But what are you here for Nott?" She'd stopped a good three feet from him to give him time to explain himself.

"Millicent?" the young man looked slightly thrown off at the sight of his former housemate. Having expected the woman under the padding to be a witch in her mid-40's with a feisty personality it had to be expected that he be slightly thrown off to find the familiar square jawed witch under the mask. Though he was aware that Ludwig Bulstrode was Millicent's father he'd not expected to see her today. "I thought you were in Prague."

"I came back," the young woman answered as breathed heavily from the work out, "is that a problem?"

"No, not at all," the boy answered with a shrug. Trying to seem as though the slightly shocked expression he knew he had responded with could be over come by quick correction. "I just thought you were your mother."

Millicent snorted with a roll of her eyes as she tossed her mask to a nearby corner and moved to the doors Theo had just entered, "Obviously you don't know my mother. She'd sooner kill herself before wearing anything that didn't billow behind her."

"Well is she in?" Theodore asked as he followed Millicent down the hall he'd just come, having decided it'd be best if he got to business right away. "Your ... _butler_ said she was dealing with all of your father's ..." He paused in mid-sentence as they turned into a sitting room something in his mind suddenly answering his own question. "...She's not here either is she?"

"Awe, there we go. Nott's finally catching on, well done." the young woman had a condescending tone about her as she took a seat in one of the armchairs and began removing her gloves. "But you still didn't answer my question, Nott. What are you doing here?"

"Why Millicent," he answered with a sarcastic sigh slightly defeated by the acknowledgement of having to deal with her. "I'm here expecting you to play a good hostess and at least offer me a drink." He moved from the hall and took seat on the settee opposite her chair.

"Alright," she offered with a forced smile of her own, "I'll offer you a drink once you tell me your business here. It's really not that hard, Theodore, so do us both the favour and come out with it."

Theodore didn't answer right away and instead stared at Millicent with a particular expression of consideration. The last time they'd seen each other was near the end of sixth year just before her father pulled her from school in May of 1997. It seemed this last year and a half Theodore had spent with out her presence had only managed to make him forget how completely annoying she could be. Her condescending tone had always been a trait to be admired when it was directed at someone else. However, he found it entirely annoying when she did it to him particularly because he'd bet money she knew how frustrating he found it and she did it on purpose. This of course was all the more reason to annoy her with not directly answering her questions. It was how their relationship had teetered on and off all through school and despite the time they'd gone unacquainted it was a hard habit to break.

"Aren't you thirsty from all that..._monkey business_ you were doing with your little stick?" he asked with a raise of his brow.

Millicent's eyes didn't leave him as she reached into her sleeve pocket and retrieved her wand. Waving it over the small coffee table between them she conjured two glasses of iced water. "I'd offer alcohol but frankly I don't want you staying any longer than necessary."

With a pleased smirk Theodore took the glass closest to him. "I don't think I'd trust you enough to accept an offer of alcohol, Bulstrode."

"Wise man," the woman returned the smirk as she took her own glass in hand. They were quiet a moment as they exchanged looks through their gulps of water and even after his glass was placed on his knee and her's on her armrest. Eventually Millicent broke the silence and asked, "So did Dolohov send you or not?"

"So it's true? You are doing you're father's work in his absence." Theodore asked finding the fact that she named his informant on her first try mildly impressive.

"Perhaps if you've come baring gifts I do," she answered with a shrug, "If not then, no."

"Well I only have gifts if I get them in return," he answered.

"And I have home field advantage," Millicent smirked, "Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

Theodore looked the girl over before offering a heavy exhale through his nose as he reached into his inside breast pocket. He waved a thin envelope with the letter 'B' written on the front through the air and waited expectantly for Millicent to show hers. The young woman grinned fairly pleased with his compliance. She snapped her fingers and just like a muggle magician had managed to make a similar envelope appear in thin air.

"Hardly impressive," the young man shook his head as they moved to exchange the messages.

"Maybe next time I'll pull it out of your arse," the young woman offered as she stuffed the envelope she'd been handed down the front of her fencing padding.

"I'm sure that'll be pleasant," Theodore answered sarcastically as he examined the number 312 on his new envelope before sipping at his water. "So - when did you get back?" he decided to ask for casual banter's sake as he tucked the envelope away in his robes. It seemed now that he had what he'd come for Theodore found himself slightly curious with the circumstances of this particular assignment.

"June or so," Millicent answered as though it were hardly important. However, she didn't seem very insistent on getting him to leave despite what had been said before.

He found her statement amusing and the grin that crossed his lips expressed it fairly well as did the slight chuckle. "Yet you've been here for months and no ones seen you at any social gatherings. If I didn't know any better I'd guess you weren't invited."

"Well, why would they invite someone they knew was still in Prague?" she asked hardly finding the conversation amusing. She sipped from her glass before adding, "I didn't make my return public and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Why?" he asked, "You're presence in Britain is hardly strong enough to shake the walls of tea parlors."

"Perhaps," Millicent nodded in agreement, "But as far as those who don't already know are concerned I'm not here for the time being. Don't worry though," she added, her dull expression curling into amusement, "By November they'll all know I've come back and you'll be able to convenience that darling fiancé of yours to invite me to the wedding."

"Ah so you heard about the engagement?" he asked rhetorically nodding his head. Theodore wasn't particularly surprised. They'd announced it publicly sometime in July and if Millicent had been back since June as she claimed it's no wonder she'd know. "Were you surprised?"

"The fact that it's Davis...no," the woman answered, "Generally we all knew she was aiming for you from the start of the husband prowl. Now, the fact that you agreed to it so soon after finishing Hogwarts was definitely a choice I hadn't expected."

"Well, some people have to be wrong some times," the man answered.

She offered a shrug, "Yes, but I'd rather be wrong on a prediction than a choice."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Theodore asked a bit sharp. Knowing very well what the poorly dressed woman was suggesting.

"Oh, please," Millicent sighed with a shake of her head, "Everyone knows marriage to someone like Davis at any time is a gamble. Marriage to her just as the war's picking up is simply foolish. Especially if you continue with your duties so diligently."

"I assure you, once the marriage is official Davis will be no more trouble than she's worth," he drank from his glass as though the topic were complete upon his statement.

"Why?" the woman asked finding that the conversation was far from over, "Because you'll give her an allowance and have her wrapped around your finger? Don't be stupid, Theodore, everyone knows the marriage is a matter of convenient financing for you and another act of doing as she's told for her. She might be hopelessly devoted to you for the first few years but her vindictive nature will do everything in it's power to bring you down for something ridiculous like…you ignoring her."

"Why are you so insistent on tearing apart the engagement?" the young man asked looking to his former-housemate with some suspicion.

Millicent didn't answer right away and lengthened the pause between them with a sip from her glass. "I know very well that the _engagement_ doesn't have the approval of the elders."

"How would you know that?" Theodore asked defensively unnerved that she was informed of such things. "Snooping where you shouldn't?"

"You don't honestly think my being here with out our social circles knowing is a coincidence, do you?" the young woman asked calmly. "I thought you were smarter than that, Theodore."

"What _are_ you doing here, Bulstrode?" he asked in return his tone slightly annoyed with the fact that she was obviously dangling something above his head on purpose.

"The same as you," she answered with a grin, "I'm playing my part to society."

"Then society must have become incredibly desperate," Theodore announced as he placed his beverage on the table and stood to his feet. "I believe we've done quiet enough chatting and with the exchange complete I'll show myself out." He straitened the front of his robes in a typical snobbish fashion and added, "Good afternoon Millicent," before heading to the door.

"Theodore," the woman quickly called him back just as he'd made it to the hall. He turned slightly to look at her as she sat up in her chair, "I wouldn't expect to play messenger boy for much longer, if I were you."

"Why's that?"

"You've been doing your job too well to go by unnoticed."

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**Chapter 2: **Envelope 312 - October 16, 1998. In the following chapter Antonin Dolohov and Walden MacNair will make an appearance, as will the contents of the envelope Millicent gave to Theodore. Halloween treats will be discussed with excited planning and the progress of the wizarding youths will be mentioned.


	2. Chapter 2: Envelope 312

**The Series:** Volume 1 follows the tales of the youth with in Voldemort's army. Their lives, tribulations, and social circles amidst war will be looked to for action. We'll see familiar characters interact from numerous points of view all working in their own areas with in Voldemort's growing number of followers. Older and darker character will taint the youth and the youth will see the consequences of their actions.

**The Chapter:** Envelope 312 - October 16, 1998. In the following chapter Antonin Dolohov and Walden MacNair will make an appearance, as will the contents of the envelope Millicent gave to Theodore in the previous chapter. Halloween treats will be discussed with excited planning and the progress of the wizarding youths will be mentioned.

**Chapter 1: Envelope 312**

The crackle of the fire from the large personal office of Antonin Dolohov was soothing against the howl of wind outside. Seated with his most trusted cousin, Walden MacNair, the pair sat in silence a moment as the guest read over a very impressive letter. A small grin was curled upon his lips while he read and turned the page – Antonin grinned in return knowing how pleasing the news was.

"I see Bulstrode is doing quite well for himself in Prague," Walden MacNair finally shared as he refolded the correspondence and stuffed it back into an envelope that read 312.

Antonin Dolohov smirked as he sipped on his brandy not finding it necessary to speak. Instead he simply nodded. Everything was going as planned and there was perfection to be had in the coming months.

"I take it his daughter is proving quite the useful little pawn, isn't she?"

"On the contrary," Antonin finally spoke up, "I believe Miss. Bulstrode will be more valuable to the cause then a number of the new recruits. She's smart like her father and incredibly conscious of where she moves her chess pieces."

"I've never actually spoken to the girl," Walden confessed with a passive shrug. "She's the ugly one, right?"

Antonin chuckled slightly, "Well, I met with her a few weeks ago. She's actually grown into her features quite nicely. It seems the year abroad has shown her just how to accentuate her… better features."

"Marriage material now, is she?

The host of this little gathering cocked his head to the side in consideration and sipped at his beverage in hand. "I've considered it…"

Walden found it quite interesting that Antonin Dolohov, of all people, was defending a woman of all things. Granted the girl was Dolohov's second cousin twice removed on his father's side – but… he'd rarely shown interest in any young woman's…legitimate talents. "Considered it for who?" the man asked with an obvious amusement in his tone, "Yourself?"

"Don't be and idiot," Antonin rolled his eyes. "If you paid any sort of attention – the girls promised to the Minister of Romania's son. Though, the girl may come in handy where Nott is concerned."

"Ah yes, your new boy," the other man nodded knowingly. "How's he fairing. I understand he's a very diligent young man isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. It only concerns me that he pays no mind to his social connections."

"He's engaged to one of the-"

"Davis girls," Antonin completed the other man's sentence with a particular dull interest. He shook his head in disappointment at the thought.

"Perhaps," Walden offered in an attempt to comfort. "The boys not even looked into their family history. There's a chance that all he sees is what they bring to the table - wealthy and in all the right social circles."

"Perhaps," the other man nodded. "Though that doesn't particularly make it alright."

"You're planning on meddling, aren't you?"

"Me? Meddle?" Antonin repeated with a theatrical mock sarcasm. "I don't meddle, dear cousin, I simply imply paths. It can't be helped if people follow them."

The two men grinned mischievously as they sipped from their glasses and turned there attentions back to the crackling fire. Silence fell a moment before Walden spoke again. "Is Parkinson still hosting the Halloween Gala this year?"

"Man, where have you been?" Antonin looked to his guest with a particular accusing brow raise. "Parkinson's wife is overly fickle we choose her family home to host this year. I believe they've organized a rather impressive function. It'll hold host too many an exciting new change for all of us."

"Will the Dark Lord be present?"

"No, that thing only need be present when we need him," Antonin instructed dryly. "Lestrange was very vocal about our_ Lord_ being absent this go around."

"Ah," Walden nodded sagely, "And whatever the Prince of Walpurgis wants-"

"He gets…" the two men completed the sentence and then chuckled briefly at the simple fact.


	3. Chapter 3: Introducing the Muscle

**The Series:** Volume 1 follows the tales of the youth with in Voldemort's army. Their lives, tribulations, and social circles amidst war will be looked to for action. We'll see familiar characters interact from numerous points of view all working in their own areas with in Voldemort's growing number of followers. Older and darker character will taint the youth and the youth will see the consequences of their actions.

**The Chapter:** October 20, 1998. Roger Davies, Miles Bletchley, and Chance Warrington clean up after a mission and discuss their social plans for the coming weeks.

**Chapter 3: Introducing The Muscle **

The smell of blood was fresh in the air as the three masked figures stood in a row about the small Irish cottage. The three bodies of Finnigan lay unceremoniously on the ground. The bulkier of the three kneeled before the female figure and with the use of his wand levitated with great curiosity her intestines from her open wound. A sinister grin upon his face as he looked to his companions for a chuckle or a praise.

Instead one of them quickly removed his mask and left the room. His hand over his mouth as he gagged slightly and later the distant sound of vomiting followed.

"Must you really do that, Warrington?" The remaining figure asked as he removed his own mask and gently kicked the other man with his foot.

"They told us to leave the scene as dirty as possible," Chance Warrington defended as he decorated the furniture with the woman's insides. "That's why I'm here isn't it?"

"Better you than me or Davies back there," Miles Bletchley frowned at his colleague and went to write a message on the wall to his left.

"I don't understand why he comes," Chance frowned as he created a few more large open wounds on the woman's husband with his wand. "He's always vomiting for no particularly reason."

"He's good at what he does," the other man sighed.

"Vomiting?"

"Legilimency – if he didn't come we wouldn't know when we had the right information or when to properly off 'em."

"Right," Chance sighed as he stood and began rearranging the bodies about their small parlor. "But, why couldn't we get someone at least a little more entertaining like…Higgs, or Bole?"

"Luck of the draw, I suppose," Bletchley shrugged as he stood back to admire his work. He cocked his head slightly as the last letter was carved out by a directed flame on the ugly floral wallpaper.

_MORE WILL SUFFER WITHOUT POTTER_

Roger Davies joined the other two men as he wiped at his mouth and swallowed back. He was breathing heavy having just lost his dinner in the Finnigan's rose garden. He frowned and closed his eyes at the sight and sound of Warrington detaching the young Finnigan girl's limbs. He then proceeded to organize the parts to distinguish that her arms and eventually her head were not attached as they should have been.

"After this what d'you lot say to a drink?" Miles offered as he pocketed his wand and patted Roger on the back. "Loosen your nerves a bit, mate."

Roger frowned and swallowed again – eyes still closed. "I don't… no. I don't think so."

"Oh come on," Warrington called as the man enchanted daddy Finnigan's head to bash against the floor a bit more.

Roger Davies squirmed before his hand came to cover his mouth. "I'll be out… be outside-" he managed to mumble before darting out of the room. The cottage door slamming loudly behind him.

Miles and Chance snorted into laughter as they watched their weak stomached companion leave. It certainly was a shame the man had yet to become accustomed to the dirty part of this job. Granted it was only his third assignment, but, one would think he'd have at least started to get used to it all by now.

"So, what you say about that drink, then Warrington?" Miles asked as he stood back and watched the other death eater work.

"What time is it?" Warrington asked as he dropped the male Finnigan's head on the ground for the last time and turned to look at Miles.

Miles glanced at his wrist watch, "Almost four in the morning…"

"Yeah… can't do the drinks tonight, mate," Warrington sighed as he pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping his hands with it. "I've got to at least pretend I'd been in bed with my wife before sun up."

Miles Bletchley grinned rather amused. "How is Romilda? Still obedient as ever?"

"She's alright," Chance shrugged, "She's finally getting used to who's in charge that's for sure."

"Then why not come out for a drink with me?"

"Because," the man explained, "even if she is coming around to the fact that I rule the house – it doesn't save her on whining." Both men sighed a moment as they overlooked the final masterpiece. The three Finnigans, mother, husband, and daughter strewn across the living room and the cryptic note burned into the wall.

"Looks like we're done…" Miles announced as he patted his colleague on the back and made for the door. "You going to that Halloween Gala next week?"


End file.
